


Finding the Prince

by Renee1202



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Adorable Bilbo Baggins, All The Ships, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Thorin, Dis is fantastic, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Gandalf Is a Little Shit, M/M, Majestic Thorin, Oblivious Thorin, Prince Bilbo Baggins, Royal hobbits AU, Slow Build, Thorin Is an Idiot, Uncle Bilbo Baggins, Uncle Thorin, terrible fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee1202/pseuds/Renee1202
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hobbits were once a noble and valiant race that is until the orcs attacked. Now the King is dead and the queen of young prince have gone into hiding. A friend has decided to find them and restore them to their throne with the help of 13 dwarves and a wizard. However you cannot find a hobbit without another hobbit. The wizard has chosen one but why is this hobbit so familiar?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

"Where are the dwarves!" One General shouted swinging his mighty hammer, knocking an orcs head clean from it's body. Around him the chaos of battle ensued, growing more and more terror some, soldiers were dying by the dozens. The rancid stench of blood and death tainted the air of the lush green hills of the Kingdom of the Shire. 

"They won't make it in time, they were caught in a snowstorm crossing the Misty Mountains!" A soldier shouted before he was stabbed through with an Orc sword. The sound of clanging weapons and ferocious roars drew the general's attention to a hill a short distance away. 

"Rally to your King!" The General yelled to his men drawing attention to the man fighting alone on a hill surrounded by orcs. He was in simple iron and leather armor, he fought with an iron longsword and a wood and iron shield. He fought with a grace and elegance that came with years of training and experience, slashing down his foes with a practiced ease. 

His forces rallied around him striking down their foes. Blood stained weapons and armor both their enemies and their own. "My King we cannot hold out like this for much longer." The General said wearily cutting down another Orc.

The King nodded his head gravely and replied, "I know, I had hoped our friends would have made it here by now." An Orc got past his shield and sliced through his armor and sliced through his shoulder. The King quickly brought the Orc down then grunted in pain as blood started to leak from his armor. "I fear, my friend, that my wife will be very upset with me for missing dinner." He took a mace to the thigh and collapsed to the ground, the General rushed forward and slew the damnable orc. 

Another orc came forward in the former's place and stabbed the General clean through the chest. The General growled and beheaded the Orc, meanwhile the same Orc had run through his king as well. The king and his general collapsed side by side, their energy finally spent as they waited for death to take them.

The General chuckled darkly, “Aye sir, I do believe my wife will be exceedingly irritated with me as well.” He said.

Victory cries started sounding around them signaling the end of the battle, but not their victory. The king looked over at his friend and comrade, “Thank you for your years of service my friend, may we meet again in the gardens of Yavanna.” He said, smiling at one of his oldest friends.

“It has been an honor and a privilege my King, may our green lady smile upon you and bless the families we are leaving behind. May we meet again in her gardens.” The general replied as he gazed over at his king again only to see his eyes had closed and his life had left his body. He chuckled and coughed violently, blood staining his mouth, he could feel his life fading. “Yes I imagine queen Belladonna will be quite put out with you won't she, King Bungo?” The general sighed as black flooded his vision.

The general was startled awake by the sound of a familiar battle cry. “Du Bekar!” It was the cry of their dwarf allies signifying that they had made it to the battle, a little late. He heard them shuffling about the dead murmuring in horror. “I've found them, they are over here!” One of the soldiers shouted, there was a commotion going on around him. 

“Move aside, give them space!” One of the soldiers cried, the others moved aside as healers rushed forward to try and save them. The general shook his head denying the help, he was dying and there was no stopping it.

“Where is your king?” He asked addressing one of the healers. Dwarves moved to the side to allow the relatively tall dwarf to pass. He had long, dark, nearly black hair with beads and braids woven into the thick tresses. They showed his status as king and identified his his clan and family. He wore royal blue to show what line he came from. He wore a metal mesh armor across his chest, around his shoulders he wore a thick traveling cloak of furs. His hair was still damp from the snow. His blue eyes were steely with anger but also full of grief.

"My liege.” The general addressed with the required formality even as his life faded from his body. The king waved him off and disregarding formality kneeled by his head. 

“I am so sorry that we did not make it here in time to be of any help, it saddens me greatly to see so much death.” He said with all sincerity, his eyes reflecting his grief for their innumerable losses. His eyes landed on king Bungo as he watches his healers work fruitlessly to try and revive him. “When did it happen?” He queried as he gazed at his old friend and grieved for his death.

“Maybe thirty minutes before you all arrived, I am not certain.” The general replied, the warm blood starting to grow cool and the flow was slowing. The king could see that his life was not going to last much longer.

“What of the Queen?” The king asked hurriedly to try and get an answer before the poor man perished.

“My Lady Queen Belladonna was asked to flee before the battle started, where she fled to I do not know. The only one who knew was King Bungo and that secret died with him. However you and I both know that she will not make an appearance until the threat against her and the young prince is gone.” He whispered with the remnant of his strength. The king looked at him in shock.

“Bungo and Belladonna has a son? When? What is his name? Why didn't we know?” He asked in shock that such a big thing was kept from them. 

“The young prince was born less than a week ago, it is not customary to introduce a fauntling into society until they are a month in age… King Thorin if you should ever come across the young prince bring him home to his people, the monarchy will be dissolved with his and his mother's disappearance…” The general was struggling to breath at this point, coming and going in labored pants.

“His… Name… Is… B-” and with that the general said no more as his eyes glazed over and his breath left him. Thorin Oakenshield sighed in grief and frustration, how was he expected to help someone when he did not know who they were. The placed his hand gently on the deceased man’s forehead and murmured a quick prayer for him then gently closed his eyes. 

Thorin rose to his feet then walked over to the now shroud covered king. “Keeping secrets are we now, my old friend?” He said sinking to his knees next to his friend he placed a hand over the man’s still chest. “I will find and take care of your family, you have nothing to worry about. I will find them and restore them to their rightful place on the throne.” He said then murmured a quick prayer. 

“But first let me give you and your men a proper burial.” He rose to his feet and ordered his men to bury the fallen hobbits, he himself buried his old friend under a great oak tree. He then ordered on of his men to go to the nearest town and purchase sacks or flower seeds so that the field would one day grow into a beautiful field of flowers. He knew the hobbits would appreciate the homage to their green lady.

He looked on as his men buried the fallen and thought to himself, where to start.


	2. A Most Respectable Hobbit

Chapter 1  
A Most Respectable Hobbit

Bilbo Took was considered one of the most respectable hobbits in the Shire. He wasn’t always so respectable however, in his youth he was quite the adventurous little hobbit. He often went on adventures around the Shire and outside of the Shire to places like Bree. Now to other hobbits this was most unrespectable behavior, and many blamed his mother for his adventurous habits.

Bella Took was an odd hobbit, she showed up in Hobbiton one day with a baby Bilbo cradled in her arms and claimed residence in the old Bag End. Now of course this started the inevitable gossip; just who was this woman, where did she come from, and why was she in Bag End. They approached the Thain about her and he claimed her to be a distant niece of his who lived in Bree. The girl's parents had passed away recently and she found it too painful to stay in her home, so the Old Took gave her Bag End since it was currently empty and the owners had passed away recently and their children all had homes of their own and did not want it.

Now of course the cousins weren't particularly fond of this arrangement. Saying they weren't pleased would be putting it lightly. After all the hubbub and fuss died down it became apparent to the other hobbits that there was something missing from the little family, just where was the little fauntling’s father?

Now all sorts of rumors were sprung up because of the missing father. He could of course be a simple trader and could be making his rounds around Bree. He could be packing up Bella’s parents and their belongings in order to move. Or he could have perished in the war. These of course were the only realistic likelihoods. The others were, not so realistic.

She could be a harlot, sleeping with men for coin and one unfortunate night produced a child. Then the boy would be further shamed and shunned for being born a bastard. The girl could have been raped and the unfortunate union could have produced a child, in which case it was best not to talk about it. The husband/partner could have left her after finding out she was pregnant. The child could be mixed bred. He could be the product of sprites. He grew out of the garden. He was a gift from Yavanna. The stories just got more and more ridiculous.

But, of course, like all things the truth came to light. It came as a surprise to many when a man, a soldier, came to Bag End one day with a message. If Bella’s expression wasn't tell enough the flower wreath placed upon her door the next day showing the death of a family member, more specifically a husband, would have been proof enough.

It was hard to forget the poor woman's reaction when a very high ranking soldier, possibly even a general, walked up the long path to the round green door of Bag End. Belladonna came bursting out the door before the man had a chance to even knock. She looked at the man expectantly, but he shook his head remorsefully.

Bella’s expression shattered as tears started to carve tracks down her cheeks. She pressed her hands against her mouth in an attempt to keep down the strangled sobs. The soldier handed her a sword as was customary to give back the weapon of the fallen. Bella took it in shaking hands and removed it partly from the scabbard, this however started a new round of tears.

The soldier sighed and laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder, he leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Her expression cleared and she giggled a little hysterically. The two smiled at each other then the soldier gave her a quick, sharp salute which she returned with a gracious nod of her head. Then the soldier headed on his way. Bella then looked down at the sword sadly but with love in her eyes and headed back into Bag End.

Things only got better for Bella and her son after that exchange, people started treating her better after they realized she wasn't a harlot. She gained friends in the Gamgees whose young son Hamfast would often come to with Bilbo in his mother’s garden. People greeted her as she walked past on her way to the market or just on a walking trip around the Shire. That was of course before a very tall man, a wizard came and started spouting nonsense about elves, and Rivendell, and adventures.

Nasty distasteful things adventures, people whispered. Make you late for supper, others murmured. Not that their proper, respectable Belladonna Took, mother of the charming, respectable Bilbo Took, would go on such an unrespectable thing as an adventure. Certainly not, there was no chance of that, none at all.

And as per usual Belladonna managed to take the simple hobbits of the Shire by surprise, once again, and agree to go on an… Adventure… Now this of course would have been one thing if she had gone with the wizard by herself, but no, she had decided to bring the little fauntling Bilbo with her! This of course started the inevitable gossip once again. She has to be a few tools short of a garden shed, some whispered. She must be completely looney to bring a fauntling with her, others murmured.

Belladonna of course took all of this in stride and even went so far as to scold the more vocal opponents. Not much was said afterwards as the happy trio left the Shire. The other residents found it hard to judge when they saw such a joyful smile on the young faints face. Bilbo being only twelve found the whole thing very exciting and did not realize the social-faux pas they were committing.

The trio returned some three and a half months later. No not trio there were five of them now, the two hobbits, the wizard, and now two elves. Who in Middle Earth were these elves? And why were they escorting Bella and Bilbo?

The answer was given later when a particularly brave Hamfast Gamgee asked the very tall elves. Hamfast later reported that the very kind, and only slightly scary because they were really very tall, elves were Elladan and Elrohir. They were the sons of the Lord Elrond of Rivendell. They had become friends with the Lady Belladonna and especially the young playful Bilbo, and the duo had decided to escort their friends home.

The elves only stayed for a week then went on their way. Their departure was given off by a very tears eyed Bilbo who was sad to see his friends leave. The elves gave the poor sniveling faunt a hug each and promised him that they would visit another time. Bilbo sniffles, snot dripping down his chin pathetically and turned to his mother and assured that they could visit sometime as well. His mother cooed fondly at him, took a handkerchief and wiped his face free of snot while she assured him that of course they would visit, Rivendell would be very dull without them.

At this Elladan and Elrohir rolled their eyes and said that they thought that their father would appreciate a few months, or years, of peace. This started a new round of tears from Bilbo and a sharp smack smack from Belladonna. The Hobbits of the Shire were not quite sure what to make of these new elf-friends, but they knew if Bilbo liked them they couldn't be all that bad. The elves had also brought some smiles back to Bella’s face, and that was a very good thing. Even if the elves came from a far off land, and they had met them on an, adventure, surely it couldn't have been all that bad.

The years passed slowly after that, Bilbo grew into a fine young hobbit and thrived under his mother’s tutelage. If you could call sword play and hand to hand combat respectable things to learn, that is. But she also taught him languages like Sindarin, and Quenya, and more surprisingly Old Hobbitish, a language everyone knew but seldom used. He was well read but the time he was twenty having read all the books in their personal library and the books from the book store. Altogether despite the more distasteful habits Bilbo Took was shaping up to be a very respectable hobbit indeed.

The years continued on in relative peace and calm, but as the years wore on it became evident that the years were beginning to take their toll on an aging Belladonna. “She’s fading,” the doctor told an anxious Bilbo after his mother had spent all day in bed and was refusing to eat anything.

“What does that mean?” Bilbo queried, wringing his trembling hands together. The doctor removed his glasses and gazed at Bilbo with sympathy.

“When a person spends too much time away from their soulmate, their ‘One’ if you will. They begin to what we call fade. Now the end result can vary based on what has happened to their One if they have simply left on a journey then they can recover when they return. However when a person's One dies, they lose all meaning of life and the will to live. They simply, fade away. He said sadly placing a comforting hand on the poor boy’s shoulder as he sobbed.

“Just make her comfortable and she will go when she goes.” The doctor said. He peered at the young Hobbit still hunched in his arm chair with his head in his hands. “You know Bilbo if it is any consolation, your mother would have died long ago if she hadn't had you to love and take care of. Trust me when I say you are very lucky.”

Bella passed on in her sleep a week later. The sun was shining on the day of her funeral. She was buried at the base of the oak tree at the top of Bag End. The sun streamed through the leaves illuminating her grave like a halo.

Bilbo was kneeling by his mother’s grave and placed a bouquet of hydrangea, her favourite, on the turned earth. He murmured a quick prayer, sniffled morosely then rose to his feet then shuffled back into his house. He found he could no longer refer to Bag End as his home.

If there was one thing the Hobbits of Hobbiton could agree on it was that after his mother's Bilbo was never quite the same. He stopped going on adventures around the Shire, in fact most people didn't see him leave his house except to go to the market. He stopped tending his mother's beloved garden choosing instead to hire a gardener. He seemed to grow old beyond his years.

Good, some Hobbits would argue, it was about time he grew up a little. But most were sad to see the young hobbit grow up so fast. He was still so young only thirty-three, barely past his majority, he shouldn’t be so grown up. He hung up his weapons, travel garb, and maps and traded them for doilies, and china, and silverware. Yes Mr. Took was turning into a most respectable Hobbit indeed, he ate seven meals a day, crocheted, puffed his pipe, and read his books. Mr. Took was entirely respectable, that is until a wizard clad in grey showed up at his doorstep.

...

Sitting alone in a pub in Bree, The Prancing Pony, was a most interesting man, no not man this was a dwarf. He sat alone sipping at an ale versus chugging it, so he must be here on business.

He was an interesting dwarf, handsome even, but he had a hardened look in his blue eyes that suggested he had seen a hard life. He was still clad in his traveling garb but it was easy to see that he was well muscled underneath. He had long dark hair that was charmingly streaked with silver. He gazed around the room shiftily as if expecting an attack from any side.

He only ceased his cautiousness when a tall man, no wizard, approached his table. “I hear you are looking for a Hobbit.” The wizard said coming right out with it.

“Who wants to know?” The dwarf said cautiously, hand drifting down toward his sword.

“My name is Gandalf the Grey and I do believe I know a man who can help you on your search.” The wizard, Gandalf, said with an air of confidence that could only be described as arrogance.

“And what makes you think that this person will be able to help me find who I am seeking?” The dwarf said cocking an eyebrow at the Wizards presumptuousness.

“That is an easy question, after all, who better to find a Hobbit than another Hobbit?” Flashing a smile that was all teeth.


End file.
